


Warmth

by CyrusDragon



Category: Marvel, Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: Alcohol Abuse, Angst, Gen, Grief, Underage Drinking, unhealthy coping-mechanisms
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-08
Updated: 2019-07-08
Packaged: 2020-06-24 21:37:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 423
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19732246
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CyrusDragon/pseuds/CyrusDragon
Summary: Peter could remember the first time he tried alcohol.





	Warmth

Peter could remember the first time he tried alcohol.

He was sitting on the living-room floor with his friends during a sleepover. They all watched as he unscrewed the cap to the whiskey bottle he had taken from his uncle’s liquor cabinet.

His uncle was sleeping upstairs, his aunt was on the night shift at the hospital, and he and his friends were unsupervised.

They weren’t trying to get drunk or anything. Peter had only just turned twelve, so when they passed the bottle around the room, it was only for a taste. A bit of rebellion.

It was Peter’s birthday party, so he took the first sip.

It tasted bitter and sour in his mouth, so he wrinkled his nose, swallowing anyway. As it burned its way down his throat, he vowed never to drink again. Peter was baffled that his uncle could drink this stuff; it tasted gross.

But when he passed the bottle to Jason, he suddenly felt it.

The warm feeling. It settled in Peter’s stomach and spread to his chest, buzzing pleasantly. And just like that, he understood. He didn’t know that he would one day chase after this warm feeling, drinking away pain that 12-year-old him hadn't felt yet.

***

Uncle Ben was dead.

Shot and killed in a dark alley by a man trying to rob a convenience store.

And it was all Peter’s fault.

He was the one with the powers. He was the one that saw the robber and did nothing. He might as well have shot Uncle Ben himself.

_With great power comes great responsibility._

That’s what he thought about as he rummaged through the liquor cabinet, grabbing the same brand of whiskey he had tried only two years before.

Aunt May had cried herself into exhaustion and was passed out on the couch. She couldn’t bring herself to sleep in the bedroom she had shared with her husband since he died more than three months ago. She was utterly devastated, unable to care for herself. Peter was overwhelmed with trying to make sure May was eating, cleaning the house, and going to school. His grades were dropping, he was running himself into the ground stressing over Aunt May, and now he was Spider-Man, so every time someone died on the streets, it was his responsibility.

So it was _all_ Peter’s fault.

He wanted everything to go back to normal, for Uncle Ben to come back, for Aunt May to feel better.

But that wasn’t possible, so instead, he settled for that warm feeling.


End file.
